Oh How Things Change
by Bass2013
Summary: A best friend. A mother. And an absent father. My currently unnamed character is in quite a lovely spot. Slight crossover with His Fair Assassin but only place and Saint wise. Co-writer: PossiblyAGinger
1. Chapter 1

The beauty of having a personality like mine is that one second you can be bouncing around and giggling like a schoolgirl, and the next everything seems to be falling apart and no matter what a smile won't reach your eyes. But to the casual observer, there's no discernible change. I still smile and laugh and act like nothing is wrong because I don't want people to worry about me; they have their own problems, and I'm the one who's supposed to help. Sometimes, I wish someone would worry about me besides my mother, that someone would ask what was wrong, but overall I just don't think my problems compare to others'. Sometimes I don't even know what's wrong. That's kind of where this story starts.

A long time ago, when I was much younger, much dumber, I fell in what I believed to be love with a golden boy with emerald eyes and pearly smile. A childish blush would color my cheeks whenever we spoke as if Amourna herself had appeared at my side. I was more than willing to help him. Or his friends. Or anyone that would get me his attention. But the golden boy had an obsidian heart; dark and surprisingly fragile. His interests solely invested in himself and the multiple girls he tricked and broke. Slowly, Amourna became Arduinna. Though I still cared for him, it was not love. It was a small fragile thing, my affections, and though they had stayed with him for far too long they now fluttered away to the furthest inward place and disappeared. Mother had always said that I belonged to Arduinna, that my father had been a "pig that kept running through the slaughterhouse", but until that moment I had never felt as though I belonged to Her. I didn't cry, I never told anyone of the shattered state of my emotions. Something told me that Parker knew, but that's just because he could look at a granite slab and tell it's centuries long life story. Parker was my best friend. A mediocre mousy boy, with coffee brown eyes and hair and a good heart. He was the blacksmith's son, strong, but unlike his father, he was long and lanky. Mother told me that his mother had been a gypsy, beautiful and wraithlike, and that she had left when he was only a tad older than 6. He, for all his strength, was quiet, to the point where it was a common assumption that he was a mute. And I could get him to do almost anything, if he didn't talk me out of it first. "Parker! Come on!" I called down the game trail.

"You know this is a rather terrible idea, these woods are frequented by French soldiers and mercenaries." He muttered, though he was simultaneously glaring and grinning at me.

"I know," I gave him a halfhearted smile, "That's why I love it." I tugged on the bow slung around my shoulders and waited for Parker to catch up. "You know you didn't have to come with me."

"You and I both know that's not true, a lady like you alone in the woods with thugs and other such distasteful characters is not a nice idea." Small spots of red had colored his cheekbones, though with his porcelain skin this was not an uncommon occurrence.

I hopped up on a fallen tree and said, with quite the dramatic flair, "I am no lady!" I tugged at the trousers I had borrowed from him and the white shirt I had snuck out of the box of my father's belongings. The pants fit alright, but the shirt was tight through the bosom and a tad too long. Parker just shook his head and gave me a look that I had seen so many times over the years but had never been able to identify.

"Yes, I know. You're no lady. You're a huntress. A mistress of Death himself. Et cetera, et cetera."

"I'm a daughter of Arduinna! A force to be reckoned with!" I said with as much force as I could muster without coming off too harsh, I was mostly joking and didn't want to offend him. He was my best friend. He pushed me lightly, just enough to make me topple off the log, but not before I kicked his legs out from under him. He fell with a laugh, which for him was a kind of combination of shaking of his broad shoulders and quick exhalations of breath. I landed in the leaves with him on top of me, both of us shaking with laughter. It wasn't until I opened my eyes that I realized he had stop laughing and was now studying me intently. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that that's the first time I've seen you laugh like that in a long time" His eyes hadn't left mine.

"What are you talking about? I laugh all the time." I push him lightly and sit up opposite of

where he had rocked back on his knees.

"Nevermind. You're right." He said with a crooked smile that didn't reach his dark eyes.

"Nick." I said with a slight whine in my voice.

"You know I don't like when people use my first name."

"Then tell me what's bothering you."

"You don't seem to understand that when you laugh, and I mean really laugh, you light up, your eyes close, you throw your head back and laugh. You hadn't done that since..."

"Can we not talk about him now? I'm over it. I'm getting close to my patron saint. I'm spending time with my best friend." I punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I didn't realize you paid that much attention." I turned and went back to looking for small animals' trails. Behind me, I heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'to you'.


	2. Chapter 2

I suppose I should clarify, I am seventeen, well on my way to eighteen. I was fifteen and a half when the golden boy walked into my life and sixteen and three quarters when he walked out. Parker is eighteen, well almost. I am tall, another thing that makes me unusual as I stand a head taller than most of the girls my age. Parker stands only a hair taller than me. I'm tan, a remnant of my mother's beautiful sun kissed skin; perpetually tangled brown hair with copper streaks falls in long feathery waves around my shoulders and frame my small nose and chin, muddy brown eyes, and large forehead. Parker insists that my eyes match the golden brown of the feathers of the eagles that migrate through once a year and that my forehead is not disproportionate but I mean, it's Parker, that's just who he is.

Don't get me wrong, I have other friends. A foreigner from the east and a copper headed pale girl from the South of Brittany. Both ten times more outgoing than myself. Sam, was small and dark, and for someone who looked about 9 threatened an awful lot of people. And Tori, for as tall as she was, just kind of tried to blend, though with her hair she stood out like a red thumb. Literally. But I'd always gotten along better with Parker, he didn't expect me to always want to talk and when I did he would match my sarcasm blow for blow. Even as he slowly grew into his frighteningly large feet he never seemed to notice the way some of the girls would look at him. The tall, willowy girls that looked as though Amourna herself had molded them would stare as he walked by, watch him work in the forge and, sadly, glare at me the whole time. Yes, he was growing more attractive with age, but he was my friend, just my friend. Yes. Friend. Right?

As time carried on along its wayward path, the days grew shorter, the leaves fewer and the mercenaries more frequent. Mother had almost lost her apothecary after some drunken thug beat down her door and broke most of her herbs and supplies, all while looking for his lost love Madeline, from York. Also increasing were the number of times that Parker muttered something I couldn't hear when I turned to leave; and the occurrences when I would find myself looking at just how nicely he was aging. Like a pup growing into his paws, Parker's being was slowly beginning to become proportionate to his feet, he now stood tall enough that the crown of my head could fit under his chin. Not that I was thinking of that. And as he grew, so did his following.

On this particular night, I slept fitfully. The quilt Mother had made was too warm but to sleep without was too cold. The bed seemed overly lumpy and every time I shifted I was more uncomfortable than the moment before. In the darkest hours of the night, I stood up and paced around my room, from the window, to my door, and back again. Around here things get a bit blurry, but somehow, I found my way downstairs and across the square to the forge. And somehow I ended up standing at Parker's door staring at his bare chest.

"Hmmm?" He hummed huskily, his voice thick with sleep, and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Oh hi." I stammered, looking at the cobbled path beneath my feet, or the door frame, or anywhere besides my shirtless friend.

"What's wrong?" He asked, "You look like you've done something wrong."

"You remember how after your mom left you had trouble sleeping, and we'd curl up on the ground with a pillow and talk for hours until we fell asleep?"

"Oh, yes, I mean, gosh that was a long time ago, we used to have so much fun talking."

"Could we do that again?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"We're almost adults, you know what people would think if you spent the night." His eyes had lit up, and dulled as he remembered our age.

"Well to hell with them. I can't sleep and if I want to talk with my best friend until I fall asleep then I will." After his sudden growth I now had to tilt my head back to stare at him defiantly, and I planted my fists on my hips to attempt to seem more imposing.

A grin split his face, "Well when you put it that way..." And with that he opened the door wide enough for me to slip through.

I walked down the corridor to his room, I knew my way around his house well enough by now, and he followed shutting the door behind him. I snatched his pillow off the straw mattress and plopped on the ground. "Come on we have some catching up to do."

He laid down opposite me on his back and I threw the pillow at him, "If you're going to lay down you might as well have the pillow."

He laughed and sat up, crawling over beside me, "Come on let's find picture in the ceiling like we used to when we were kids."

"Fine, but I get to make up names; yours are always so boring." I lay down and discreetly watched the way his muscles moved beneath his skin and he lay down parallel to me. He placed the pillow on the ground beneath his head and left enough room for mine to fit beside his. I tried to fit, I really did, but we weren't two six year olds anymore, his shoulder didn't allow enough room. "Ok, one pillow is not going to work."

"Yeah, no kidding." He paused and gave me an apprehensive look, "I have an idea."

"Please, do share." I said, hoping my voice didn't betray the speeding of my pulse.

He didn't answer, just shifted so that I was fully off the pillow. I opened my mouth to object, but before a single syllable left my mouth i felt his arm wind around me. "I supposed you'll work as a pillow." I stuttered, sliding so that my head rested on his shoulder. "Now, once upon a time, a rabbit," I pointed at a paint patch that vaguely resembled the aforementioned rodent, "named Melody..."


	3. Chapter 3

I woke the next morning, well rested, albeit sore from sleeping on the ground, and very warm. The sun was rudely shining through an open window and I burrowed my head into my pillow. Wait. That was not my pillow. My pillow doesn't have muscle. My pillow doesn't have an arm that tightens protectively around me. The previous night comes rushing back in a blur. And startlingly, I regret none of it. Parker had always been my protector, I had nothing to fear from him. "Morning." I whisper with a grin. He grunts and shifts but he's still sleeping like the dead. "Morning." I try again, this time allowing my fingers to draw lazy circles on his abdomen, "Wake up, Parker." I say, my breath tickling the side of his face. He hums happily and turns, nearly dropping my head on the ground in the process, towards me.

"So you're actually here." The tone of his voice seems surprised, but not displeased, as he opens his eyes. "I thought perhaps I'd dreamed you."

"I'm no dream," I say, propping my head up on one hand, "it's just me."

"Just you." Something in his voice told me that maybe me wasn't such a bad thing to be.

I left Parker's home with little difficulty, his father gave me a nod as I passed him and only two girls shot me murderous glares. Mother had run to Rennes to restock her supplies after the rampaging brute had struck, so there was no resistance on the home front. One of the willowy girls that had her eye on Parker was hosting a small dance in her barn tonight, and he had been invited. For some unknown reason, he wanted to go, which meant I was being dragged along. Mother had never been fond of evening wear, said that women should be able to find a man without a corset; but, she still owned some glamorous dresses from her days with my father. She thought I didn't know about her trunk, but I had accidentally discovered it when I was younger and searching for my 'lost' doll. One gown in particular had haunted my more flamboyant dreams; and that was the one that I was going to borrow for tonight. As I snuck into Mother's room, I wondered why I was so nervous, Mother wasn't even home and I was just going out to a small dance with Parker, maybe sneaking some mead. I opened the trunk without much difficulty, Mother didn't bother with locks, she figured I wouldn't do anything and she'd just lose the key. The aforementioned gown lay on top, folded neatly and crisply. I plucked it from the trunk and spun around, a grin spreading across my face. Maybe tonight, I would be one of the girls with Amourna's blessing, one of the girls people looked at and wondered how they even exist.

That evening, Parker arrived to find me unable to lace up the corset and thus, with a completely bare back. "Um, nice dress? Little bit, um…revealing?" He stuttered and looked at the worn floorboards, a deep red coloring spreading across his face and neck like wine across a table cloth.

"Oh shut up and help me." I flipped around and glared at him, holding the shoulders of the dress to prevent any further exposure. He did as he was asked, walking around behind me and attempting to tighten the ties up my back.

"Saints, how do you tighten this thing?" He asked, placing a hand in between my shoulder blades and tugging harder at the ribbons. My breath caught and he paused, "You okay?"

"Yes, just move one set of ties at a time, and when you get to the top, tie it off." I pulled my long hair back over my shoulder and tried to focus on slowing my breath and reigning in my galloping pulse.

"AHA! There we go!" I jumped at the sudden exclamation from behind me. I turn around and smile.

"Only took a half hour." I soften the snarky comment with a playful push on his shoulder. Parker doesn't respond, just gives me a once over, his gaze lingering. The gown is gorgeous, and as I turn to look in the mirror, I allow myself to take in the full effect. The midnight blue crushed velvet sits prettily on me, the color darkening my skin so that it almost looks the pretty caramel tone of my Mother. The sleeves come to just below my elbow and the corset, while annoying, does its job. My hair has decided to cooperate and waterfalls down my back in curls, the top held back by a tortoiseshell comb. "Do you think it's too much? I mean we are going to a barn…" Parker comes up right behind me and meets my eye in the mirror.

"If you were to change, it would be a travesty to mankind." He says seriously, and only the spark in his eye tells me that he's kidding around with me.

"Oh shut up, Bigfoot."

The evening goes fitfully. I knew my attendance with Parker would ruffle some feathers, but I didn't expect the full assault that hit me the instant we walked in. It seemed that every girl there had their eye on Parker, and more importantly, their targets dead on me. Parker insisted on dancing with me; and for a while I was having fun as song after song passed and Parker kept spinning me and spinning himself until I was laughing and the room was blurred. When a slower song came on he didn't hesitate to pull me close and begin rocking to and fro, and perhaps for a second, I thought that maybe he was going to kiss me. But then, one of Amourna's girls, her name was Marie or something, flounced up to Parker, completely ignoring the fact that I was there, on his arm, and began insisting he dance with her. He looked at me with a bewildered expression and I released his hand. "Go, have fun." I attempt a smile.

"Oh, who's this?" Mardi asked, the expression on her face full of contempt.

"I'm just a friend of Parker's." I say, ignoring the fact that she knew that well and truly who I was. I plastered a fake smile on my face and excused myself to the refreshments, leaving Parker looking concerned.

The time passed slowly as I watched Parker passed from girl to girl and my mug was being refilled almost every other minute. Occasionally some poor lonely guy would approach, upset after being scorned by the preferred girls, only to be shot down by my complete lack of response to any attempt at conversation. The mead was working its magic and I felt numb, only a slight burn of jealously in the deepest pit of my subconscious remaining. The instant Molly had taken Parker it had started up, a blazing inferno, though now, it had dulled, I still wondered why I felt possessive of Parker, he wasn't 'my' anything, besides friend.

After what felt like hours, and far too many mugs of mead, Parker escaped his ferris wheel of admirers and found me, drunk and half passed out on a bale of hay. "Oh Saints, for a bright girl you're really stupid." He shook my shoulder gently in an attempt to get me to sit up, which only elicited a groan from me. "Come on get up." I responded by rolling over. "I didn't want to have to do this." I'll never know what exactly "this" was, as at that moment the barn doors snapped open and mercenaries flooded the straw filled building.

"Okay, I'm up." I slurred, wobbling to my feet and grabbing Parker's arm. "We need to get out, now." Adrenaline evidently killed a buzz pretty quick.

"Come on this way." Parker dragged me towards a stack of hay bales and slid us behind them. He began tugging on several loose boards, the tearing noises thankfully drowned out by the panicked noises of the party guests. Soon he had a hole big enough for him to fit through, and by association, me, considering I was shorter and slighter. We bolted; running out of the barn and up a hill, into the woodline. "Oh Saints." Parker pointed beyond the barn, toward the village. Which, it occurred to me, was now on fire.

"Mother!" I cried, before remembering she wasn't to return from Rennes until tomorrow. I sank down in the roots of a tree and leaned my throbbing head against it. "What are we going to do, Parker? We can't go back."

"Then we keep going up, away. To the city."


End file.
